New Country = New Blog

It just didn't feel right telling about my Mozambique experiences under my Lesotho blog so I've created a new one. I will be in Moz for almost 5 weeks. I will be traveling to the following areas of the country (making my way north):
1. Maputo
2. Tofo (Inhambane)
3. Vilankulos
4. Xai-Xai
5. Beira
6. Pemba

I'll be traveling with friends for the first 2 weeks, then heading out on my own to visit PCVs in Mozambique and then attending the Tambo International Art Camp in Pemba. I don't have much planned, and I'm really not sure what to expect at the "Art Camp", but I'm pretty sure it will be amazing. :)

My itinerary is as follows:
-lay on the beach
-read on the beach
-lay in a hammock
-drink cocktails with tiny umbrellas
-eat fresh seafood
-find "African fabric" for Grandma
-learn a little Portuguese

I'm a bit concerned about the last 2 on the list, but I think I can swing it. I leave for Jo'burg on Thursday, then taking the bus to Maputo Friday morning... can't wait!

Last Days in Qacha's Nek

My last days in Qacha's Nek were stressful and emotional, but in a good way. I had to say goodbye to many friends and good people that I've gotten to know well over the last 2 years. Some of them are Americans who have become some of my best friends. Some of them are Basotho who have been my family for the last 2 years in Qacha's Nek. Some of them are just friendly, familiar faces that I will miss seeing on a daily basis. I'm elated to know that my work in my village and the camptown touched people enough to thank me with hugs and gifts and songs.

I had a lot of work to do the last few weeks as well, finishing up projects and making sure everything will work okay after I leave (if possible). I painted a mural at a high school on their new library building. I gave the last of the Life Skills presentations at the prison and the primary school. I helped Ntate Nkhooa design a pamphlet for his Snake Park, the first in Lesotho. But mostly I tried to spend time with my good Basotho friends.

My Basotho family in Ha Manteko threw a party for me and presented me with a traditonal seshoeshoe dress and an African wall-hanging craft. We all danced until midnight including little 5-year old Thuto who shakes it better than anyone. I'll definitely miss Basotho parties where EVERYONE dances no matter their age, old or young. My ausi, sister, also gave me a seshoeshoe dress as a parting gift. Then the day I left, the 7th grade students that I taught at the primary school and the teachers gave me some cards and a couple small gifts, and they sang a departing song that went something like "may God bless and keep you til we meet again..." It was so sweet.

I'm in the capital, Maseru, now preparing to leave Lesotho and finish my Peace Corps service. Remember, I work for the U.S. Government so I have a ton of paperwork to fill out in addition to medical check-ups and other bureaucratic BS. I need about 20 signatures before I leave. yay.

It has certainly been a roller-coaster during the last 2 years in Lesotho, big ups and downs, and it went really fast. I can't believe my Peace Corps service is coming to a close, but I'm also very excited for the next chapters in my life. Next stop - Mozambique! Then I'm back in good ole Southern California by the end of July. :D

Dusk

I only have one month left in Qacha’s Nek, and I am starting to get quite nostalgic about everything. I don’t want to forget any of the people and places I know so well after two years.

Last night at dusk I took a short stroll outside to watch the sunset. On my way, I ran into two Basotho men wearing traditional blankets rolling a joint, apparently about to enjoy the sunset themselves. I greeted them in Sesotho, and they greeted me back. The older gentleman showed multiple missing teeth as he smiled and nodded. I often run into boys and men smoking weed when I walk down the hill behind my house around dusk—nobody minds here. As I pause to enjoy this beautiful time of day, my back is to the setting sun. Even more mesmerizing than the sunset is the vibrant reddish-orange color of the mountains opposite the sun. I soaked it all in—don’t forget! When the sun had gone and the orange faded, I walked back to my house to make dinner. I breathed in that familiar smell as I passed the smoking bo-ntate (men), and we greeted each other again and said good night. It’s winter now and very cold at night so I didn’t stay out long.

I have also been visiting my waterfall more frequently. About a 20-minute walk from my front door, I am standing above a beautiful waterfall maybe 10 stories tall. Another steep 40 minutes down and I’m at the bottom of it, but I usually just walk to the top and relish in “my” waterfall for a bit before heading back home. Lesotho is a gorgeous country, especially in the southern Drakensberg mountain area where I live. I will miss it dearly.

Joburg & Cape Town

Being a tourist can be fun. I play it down like it's lame, and I'd rather hang with the locals, but I can enjoy it in the right place. Cape Town, South Africa, is that place. There's so much to do in Cape Town, you can't help but be out and about with your camera every day.

I started off my vacation going to Johannesburg with my friend Jen, leaving from her site in northern Lesotho. We took a mini-bus, a little concerned about our safety in the Jo'burg taxi rank where we would be dropped off (supposedly the most dangerous area in South Africa). But like so many times before, our Sesotho language skills saved us. We always had the option of paying for a private taxi to pick us up and take us to our hostel, but we are thrifty Peace Corps volunteers and we weren't willing to give up 400ZAR that easily. We made friends with our driver, Ntate Bohloko (Mr. Pain), and he agreed to help us out. Help can come in many forms in Africa so we still weren't totally sure what would happen, but we were confident we'd be okay if a local driver was willing to give us a hand. It turned out Ntate Bohloko was truly willing to go the extra mile for our sorry American asses. He drove us to the huge taxi rank where we would hop on another mini-bus to take us to our hostel. Then, he parked the car in an illegal parking spot, got out of the car with us, walked us another 5 minutes to the mini-buses, then found the exact mini-bus we needed to take, discussed our situation with the driver, double-checked that he was taking us to the exact area we needed to go, and told Jen and I to tell him again just in case. He is a saint and the only reason we didn't get mugged in the Johannesburg taxi rank. The man barely spoke English and didn't know us at all, but he did us a huge favor that day. I can't tell you how many South Africans have helped me out when I really needed it--Ntate Bohloko being a prime example.

Johannesburg is a fabulous city. It reminded me more of LA than any other city in South Africa. Jen and I were only there for a couple days, but we enjoyed the city. We went out with some guys that worked at the hostel. On a Saturday night, they took us to a local bar for drinks and dancing where Jen and I were the only white people--that's always fun. :) The main event that lead us to Jo'burg, though, was the Joburg Art Fair where we could see contemporary art from all over the world, mostly from South Africa. It was a sophisticated art event, and I could not have been happier. Professionalism, paintings, sculpture, prints, art talks, artists, critics--it was paradise for an artist who has been living in an artless environment for so long.
Then, off to Cape Town on a domestic flight--pretty fancy for a PCV. We arrived in the evening, got picked up and were taken to our next hostel. We did some grocery shopping and saw a movie that night. The next day we took the train down to Simon's Town so we could see some African Penguins. The train tracks follow the coastline towards Cape Point so it was a gorgeous view of the beach for the last half of the ride. From Simon's Town, it was another 2 kilometers to Boulder's Beach where the penguins live so we took a stroll down main street. We didn't get very far when we found a patisserie serving delicious pastries and desserts. Lunch for dessert? Sure! We felt a little sick after lunch, but luckily a nice older couple at the patisserie offered us a ride down to Boulder's Beach. The penguins were everywhere, and we could walk right up to them. It was a perfect day trip.
The next day I went to see some art galleries around town, slightly disappointing. I guess I was too picky after the Joburg Art Fair. Then I took a bus to a suburb of Cape Town hoping to learn how to kite surf. Unfortunately the winds disappeared as soon as I got there, and it wasn't possible. Instead I laid on the beach and ate some chicken chow mein--delicious. I didn't swim in the ocean though, it was freezing! Even the sand was cold. I also took a nice 10k run from Green Point to Camps Bay with the beach on my right, and Table Mountain on my left. We also went to Robben Island for a day to see the famous prison where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for many years during the apartheid regime in South Africa. He was released in 1990, and elected South Africa's first democrat President in 1994 after the fall of apartheid. After living in Southern Africa for 2 years, reading about Mandela's life, and hearing chilling stories from people who suffered during the apartheid regime, it's hard to describe the feeling I had being on that island and seeing the prison cells. It was moving to say the least, and I'm proud to say that I've been there. After a few days, a large group of more Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Cape Town. We all stayed on busy Long Street amidst the bustling night life and shops. We ate good food, went to bars, and enjoyed the city life.

Saturday was the big Two Ocean Half Marathon for many people. A bunch of PCVs ran it including Jen and Chris Conz. That night we hit the town after a light nap. The next day, Easter Sunday, a few of us climbed Table Mountain. I was fine, but I was hiking with 3 guys that ran a half marathon the day before. The cable car ride to the top is for wimps. They were a sorry looking bunch, but they did it. Regardless, the view from the top was spectacular... once the wind died down so I could peel my eyes open. I should have tried kite surfing that day.

Before going home I went out to Stellenbosch with Chris Conz. The winelands there are beautiful and scenic, and the wine wasn't so bad either. We did a wine tasting tour, drank good South African wine, and ate good cheese. It was the perfect end to a great vacation.

A Little Poetry...

I wanted to post a lighter blog before I went on vacation and left you hanging (Under 5s was a little depressing). So I copied a favorite poem of mine that I discovered while I was in Lesotho. It speaks a lot about why I came to Africa, why I enjoyed my time here, and why it was difficult. I've read this poem many, many times since I've been in Lesotho. Enjoy!

To an English Friend in Africa
By Ben Okri

Be grateful for freedom
To see other dreams.
Bless your loneliness as much as you drank
Of your former companionships.
All that you are experiencing now
Will become moods of future joys
So bless it all.

Do not think your ways superior
To another's
Do not venture to judge
But see things with fresh and open eyes
Do not condemn
But praise what you can
And when you can't, be silent.

Time is now a gift for you
A gift of freedom
To think and remember and understand
The ever perplexing past
And to re-create yourself anew
In order to transform time.
Live while you are alive.

Learn the ways of silence and wisdom
Learn to act, learn a new speech
Learn to be what you are in the seed of your spirit
Learn to free yourself from all things that have moulded you
And which limit your secret and undiscovered road.
Remember that all things which happen
To you are raw materials
Endlessly fertile
Endlessly yielding of thoughts that could change
Your life and go on doing for ever.

Never forget to pray and be thankful
For all the things good or bad on the rich road;
For everything is changeable
So long as you live while you are alive.

Fear not, but be full of light and love;
Fear not but be alert and receptive;
Fear not but act decisively when you should;
Fear not, but know when to stop;
Fear not for you are loved by me;
Fear not, for death is not the real terror,
But life -magically - is.

Be joyful in your silence
Be strong in your patience
Do not try to wrestle with the universe
But be sometimes like water or air
Sometimes like fire
Live slowly, think slowly, for time is a mystery.

Never forget that love
Requires that you be
The greatest person you are capable of being,
Self-generating and strong and gentle-
Your own hero and star.

Love demands the best in us
To always and in time overcome the worst
And lowest in our souls.
Love the world wisely.
It is love alone that is the greatest weapon
And the deepest and hardest secret.

So fear not, my friend.
The darkness is gentler than you think.
Be grateful for the manifold
Dreams of creation
And the many ways of unnumbered peoples.

Be grateful for life as you live it.
And may a wonderful light
Always guide you on the unfolding road.

~Ben Okri

Under 5s

In Lesotho, and I imagine most of sub-Saharan Africa, there is a special term for infants and toddlers: under 5s. Many clinics and hospitals have an “Under 5s” day every week to check on babies’ health and give available vaccinations. After reading about Lesotho and/or sub-Saharan Africa and living here, it’s obvious this term exists because so many babies don’t make it to the age of 5. I fear I may have already written on this subject, but it has been haunting my thoughts for the last month and so would like to write a blog post about it…

Amidst the relatively new and popular concern over HIV and AIDS in sub-Saharan Africa, the age-old issue of malnourished and dying babies and children is still a huge contributor to deaths here. As many of you know, my ausi’s baby died last year around this time… I still don’t know the cause of death. I also have a friend who has had four children die before they reached the age of 2, and her 1-year old son is often sick and looks much younger than other children his age. She finally just tested for HIV, found out she was positive, and went on ARV treatment along with her son. Recently I witnessed a sick baby die as its mother waited for transport to the nearest hospital. Even more recently, my PCV friend’s young ausi had a pre-mature baby that died a few weeks after it was born. The poor girl married the boy who got her pregnant, as is custom when the parents know who the father is, only to have that baby die. Currently she’s in the hospital for a sickness that nobody can explain…

The thing that bothers me lately about this deadly trend is the mothers. It’s common for mothers to lose a child, if not many, whether it’s HIV, malnutrition, pre-mature birth, or a number of other diseases in Lesotho. Most of the mothers just don’t know any better. They’re too young or ignorant to take care of themselves, let alone another life that’s so fragile and needy. But mostly I think of the guilt and suffering that the mother endures when her baby dies. How do so many African women handle that burden, often alone, when most women in the States need years of counseling after a child’s death? The answer is clear—they suffer alone because they have to. Women don’t have money for grief counseling; they don’t even have money to keep their babies alive. And the few counselors that exist in Lesotho, often untrained and impatient anyway, could never handle the number of mothers suffering from the loss of their child. The event of a woman’s child dying is so common that it isn’t given proper attention within the Basotho culture.

Within this pretext, I am honored to be working at LPPA, Lesotho Planned Parenthood Association. This organization offers contraception to women who either aren’t ready to be a mother or don’t want any more mouths to feed. Currently we are also educating women and girls about family planning: what is it, and why is it important in Lesotho? And of course we are teaching girls about their own bodies, their rights, reasons to wait to have sex, and contraception if you can’t wait. Important messages for young girls so they won’t be young mothers. One of my wishes for Lesotho is that the idea of birth control catches on so young women and girls don’t have “unwanted pregnancy” and sick women don’t give birth to sick babies that will likely die before age 2.

There Is Nothing As Beautiful As Wasting Time

An excerpt from Pablo Neruda’s Memoirs, I am in love with this philosophy. I have discovered this sentiment to be true in Africa, and I am grateful to her for that. Often Americans feel guilty about “wasting time.” We think, “I should be doing something productive with this empty slot of time!” I was guilty of this fallacy in the States as well, but now I appreciate my wasted time for its blissful and restorative qualities.

Pablo Neruda, a celebrated Chilean poet, eloquently declares, “If poets answered public-opinion polls truthfully, they would give the secret away: there is nothing as beautiful as wasting time. Everyone has his own style for this pastime, as old as time itself.”

Here in Lesotho, I waste hours and sometimes days, often doing literally nothing. This is supposed to be the hardest part of Peace Corps for most volunteers—spending hours at a time, especially at night, in solitude. Solitude and wasting time have been two of my favorite activities in Lesotho, and probably most of my personal and worldly growth during my 2 years in Peace Corps has occurred during these times.

Granted, every so often I actually feel bored or get sick of just waiting. Still, Basotho have taught me to value the time in between doing things. Sometimes I sit in my comfy chair in my hut and contemplate the meaning of life, sometimes I go for a walk in my backyard of mountains and rivers (and a waterfall!), sometimes I read, every once and a while I lay on the grass and watch the stars at night or the clouds in the day (I swear they move so much faster in Lesotho!), often I lay in bed for another hour… at least.

In his Memoirs, Pablo mentions the beauty of wasting time and unique styles of doing so in the context of hanging out with other poet friends. I can relate. Marlowe and I used to entertain ourselves and waste hours with grocery carts, Legos, imaginary Red & Gold dances to the Ghostbusters theme song by Run DMC (any Beads reading this??). Or Tewksbury and I would have extended conversations in the mornings about a variety of topics, from farts to surrealism. Of course these are just a few of my favorite ways to waste time with friends. In my current setting, a day spent with Pam eating our weight in fried foods and baked goods, or shaking my booty with Kj for a solid 4 hours, or chatting with Nozipho while her cousin braids and unbraids her hair are among my best times in Peace Corps Lesotho. BUT I have learned to appreciate my alone time more, even if only because I’ve had time to explore what I want in life right now, what’s important to me, and why.

So waste some time today—and enjoy it!